lily please stay

my life used to be awful, every night I'd lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling and grinding my teeth with horror of who knows what, my eyes open for nights without end of indifferent silence, and suddenly there was you curling up by my side and keeping horror and indifference away with the loud no nonsense of your purr. you'd rumble on for longer than I could stay awake, or even you, since you went on purring in your sleep.

for almost three years, whenever I wake up sad and wanting to cry, you've been there to cuddle me, many times I've cried to you, and every time I came back home feeling shit you've been there to touch me and give me comforting little noises. when I'm sick or just sad you sit behind my head and you never move from my side.

I learned that we were meant for one another in a dream, I went and fetched you home and since then I've felt that I can handle anything, bad days, funerals, broken hearts, fights, loneliness, hesitance, indifference, oblivion & fear, if I have you, a tiny little thing to have, silky soft tiger lily with her clown face and her white spot on the tip of her tail.

yesterday I dreamed you were hiding inside a rubber boot. I picked up the boot and brought you home, and I could see your pretty freckled nose poking out. and hear your purr.

please come home, lily. don't leave me, I don't think I can make it without you.

someone get me DRUGS. I become such an awful, grouchy person without them. everything annoys me. that's one of the primary reasons I took up the smoking. and my awful stomach, too.

not having money annoys me. my transfer not coming in --yet-- annoys me. being unable to really tool my computer annoys me. not to mention the cats, all of whom could use a visit to the vet, specially sandokan, who's repeatedly trying to knock up my leg warmers. I can't blame him, they're really nice and puffy, but... argh.

speaking of --sandokan and the kittens. he gets in the box and lies with them. sometimes washes them. often sits on top of them. I've seen them trying to play as well, and the part that worries me is when he launches a playful righthand blow and I only see the two furry balls flying every which way inside the little house and going iiiiiiiiyyyaaah.

lily doesn't seem to mind, but I'm a worry-mummy.

chicken and the fucking egg. I wish I could lay eggs.

top 3 of sunday afternoon & smoking resin
1. skid row -- little shop of horrors
2. caught out there -- kellis
3. evil -- interpol

it's them it's not me

Sky was the second one to be born, as far as I know. Lucy was the lively, squeaky, fat one from the beginning, so I'm pretty sure she was the first. during the first day, Lucy and Sky were the biggest of the three; I was rather worried about little Diamonds, because she was noticeable much smaller than the other three.

on thursday morning though, I noticed for the first time that while there were still two big ones and a little one, it was now Sky that was the smallest. she wasn't feeding anymore.
I went out and bought milk substitute and a bottle, but my heart was sinking from right then. and right on spot; I never got her to feed worth a damn, and even though she looked stronger yestrerday in the early morning, sometime in between the noon and the 3 o'clock feeding she fell asleep and I could never wake her up. she died soon after.

such a small kitty.

this hasn't been my favourite week of all times, to be honest.

top 3 girl cds in marianne's stack
1. extraordinary machine -- fiona apple
2. little earthquakes -- tori amos
3. selma songs -- bjork

st. anger

I am proud to announce that in the wee hours of yestermorning, my lily gave birth to yet another three calicos like herself. potential names have been:

strawberry, vanilla, & chocolate
lucy, sky, and diamonds
bubblegum, buttercup, & blossom
strawberry, fields, forever

these are magic kitties people; apt for thinking people, witches, wizards, and people who are willing to give them a challenging life. adopt yours today.

yesterday was also my father's birthday, and while I terribly ached to stay with my litter, it was made very clear to me in many different ways that it definitely was NOT cool to miss papa's birthday, newborns, protests, thunderstorms, traffic, and muggers nonewithstanding.

oh yes, my brother and I were mugged at gunpoint on the bus on the third hour of travel between the teahouse & my parents'. it all happened very fast and no one got hurt, and that's excellent of course --like I need that kind of drama--, but I lost my wallet and my cellphone, plus about 80 dollars, which is a PAIN IN THE ARSE since it's still the only money I owned on this side of the atlantic. and my money in europe well, I can't very well swim there now, can I?


so pardon me if I still think that both my parents' birthdays hold a curse for the whole family. to fill on my father's side, last year he almost gave up the ghost on his birthday, and the year before that I was leaping into a plane to ohio, which in retrospect was not a very good move at all. the year before that... oh well, I don't need to find more evidence... you know I'm telling the truth.

I've been very cranky and that worries me; I really DON'T want to get depressed.
it's just... a lot of silly little unfortunate things have happened. and I'm starting to feel powerless about everything again; I can't afford to not have my computer fixed, but I can't fix it until I get my money, and in the meantime the days march by and it's almost end of the month again and I've been falling more and more behind at work.

crap.


three songs about cities without the names on the title
la ciudad de la furia -- soda stereo
under the bridge -- red hot chilli peppers
moon over bourbon street -- sting

I sell magic kitties --to be

after my poor glass bowl jude was killed last friday in a tragic and senseless accident, I've decided I'm definitely going back to the old piping bits bowl. perhaps it's not quite as classy, but I've always thought this kind smokes better, despite of what purists may say.

I lost my old bowl --a nameless one-- at one of the bacchanals next door sometime last month. so today, while visiting my honourable progenitors, I went on a run to the trinkety market and got a new metal bowl with a frowning skull on it, but it's also blue and pink. quite me, in fact. I even borrowed my mother's car to run my errand; talk about cyncism.

eh... bug it.

my dad's being really nice to me lately. nicest ever, even. my mother too, to be honest. it's sad to say but it pays to visit little, I suppose. the less they see of me, the better they like me.

or maybe they heard that I sent a text message to my half-sister telling her to bugger off, this is not daddy's cellphone anymore, stop sending pussy messages to this number. love, sis. and I don't feel in the least bit bad about it; it's sad enough that these people don't get it through their thick skulls that this isn't the right number a year after it changed, but excuse me if I'm quite tired of getting kissy kissy messages for 'daddy'. especially when most of the times my dad has said 'I love you' to me the sentence concluded with 'but for the life of me, I can't seem to get to like you'.

or realistically, it's just too much trouble to sort these tiresome missives and delete them from my very limited memory. it's one of those nuisances I choose not to live with. too bad.

my computer is fried and I'm completely broke. a small payment came in and that saved the day rentwise, but my payment from europe looks more stuck than ever. the whole story of chicken and egg; the problem could be easily solved if I had but a bit of money; alas, my liquidity went with the winter pallor in isla mujeres. oh malade.

so my money is there laughing merrily and dancing just out of reach. I almost don't worry much because as usual, the money is showing up so late that it almost makes no difference when it comes in anymore; I already owe it all so as far as I'm concerned, the credit card company can fuck off for another day.

in the meantime, the spring of love does go on...

top 3 janis
1. mercedes benz
2. summertime
3. ball and chain

cat cavorts

I'm having a visit by my son-in-law as we speak. everything is like its owner; lily could write sonetillos by the time she was fourteen weeks old and she still has a strange aversion for clowns; monkey, the cat in question, is prone to bolting when talked to reasonably and he always forgets his keys.

he's just left --he went to the back yard and scrambled over the high wall that divides the two houses. this wall is covered profusely with huge shards of sharp green glass, with the only purpose of disemboweling the first cat or drunken neighbor who happens to slip when making the leap between the two abodes. sandokan and lily stood nearby, watching solemnly while monkey threw himself a couple of times against the wall before succeeding and kicking down a couple of chunks of glass; the thought in both of their minds was clear even to me:
dude, why don't you just take the stairs?

after he's gone, I turn to look at my pregnacious kitty and say: seriously, what were you thinking?
she only squints her eyes at me, because of course she knows a lot of things I don't.

top 3: zero social skills for monkey
1. killing an arab -- the cure
2. paranoid -- black sabbath
3. passive aggressive -- placebo

lili ledí

cefemérides del catorce de marzo:

• hace tres años y un día, al hospital fui a dar con un ataque de histeria y de dolor. las enfermeras me dejaron tendida en el lobby y vomitando en una papelera hasta que mi madre llegó con el dinero de la admisión; sólo entonces tuvieron la bondad de darme una habitación para vomitar en privado. al día siguiente, el catorce, me fui a cirugía de emergencia.


• hace dos años, asistí con mi ya ex-novio a la comida de cumpleaños de mi madre. hacía un mes que habíamos terminado, pero nadie lo sabía y seguíamos pretendiendo en público.


• hace un año, mi momichi dio a luz a sus tres gatitas, mi lily de cabeza y por delante.
  
  en fin, un único acontecimiento luminoso aunque yo no estuve ahí, me enteré hasta el día siguiente.
  
  


• el día de hoy --un día que se va haciendo noche mientras yo sigo garrapateando como Notitas Ledí; mi hermano y yo estamos estacionados frente a nada, viendo nada excepto del humeante automóvil el cofre levantado, con nada en el estómago y nada en la cabeza más que puras amarguras.

* * * * * *

part ii

hello. we're still in the car. the hood is still up. the smoke still rises. we're both so hungry we can see the last sunrays shine through our paper-thin bodies as if we were japanese lamps. this is the fourth or fifth time we've had to stop and let the car take a breather. he smokes one of his cheap cigarettes, and I light up my joint. hey, it's just one of those days. we're still practically closer to my place than my parents', but the idea of turning back has never crossed our minds; it's holy Mother's birthday and we've already ruined it. we're obviously responsible for all the transit in this blessed city and they're not waiting for us for dinner. it's blatantly our fault that the car has to go coolant potty every ten or twelve blocks and it's taking us four hours and counting to get there. hmmmph! just rude.

also, the stereo of the car was stolen some weeks ago and we've discovered that neither of us knows the complete lyrics to the postal service's 'such great heights'. we suck. I forgot my book, so all that's left is to open my brother's Norton Anthology of English Literature and render an impromptu teary reading of the love song of j. alfred prufrock.

what a shitty day.

we ended up taking a cab to my parents' place and leaving the car at the first place we found open. then on the drive back to my place --full blast Cash-- I realized I left what was left of my excellent joint in the car. if anything, I expect the mechanic who kept it is having a hell of a time right now.

bah, what a shitty day.

top 3 of happy birthday, lily
1. sinnerman -- nina simone
2. cocaine blues -- johnny cash
3. the hardest button to button -- the white stripes

p.s. anyone should wonder that my cat's birthday excites me more than my mother's...

the silly things

early morning today:

mila sits on my doorway, friendly and attentive.
lily sits on my armchair, weary but as always, curious.
they look into each other's eyes, only a couple of meters apart.
mila is black and white, a blend of butcher shop mutt, setter, and freckles.
lily is so solidly spotted that it can be safely said that she consists of three solid spots of white, black, and tawny.
they are so very different; but right now they both sit so still, like on a classic stamp. and they look and look at each other.
I look at them both and wonder what goes through whatever passes for their minds. they have been sitting still for minutes now, and neither of them are the kind to stand still; something is obviously going on in here, and I'd
really like to understand it.

yesterday night was a bloop, to be honest. everyone says I should go out more, but nearly every time we do so it ends up being the same, and at some point of the party I find myself in the stairwell, in the balcony, or maybe my elbows on the bar and looking at the scene at my back through the mirrors, wondering what I'm doing there when I could be home reading. maybe I should consider it a step in the right direction, that I'm not having these moments of pondering in the bathroom anymore, so let's look at the bright side, YAY. it's good that I ponder about my poor abandoned books, and not about how oh god I'll never do it again I swear but MAKE IT STOP NOW or LET ME DIE soon.

I once told this guy about it, one of marianne's forever yours, and now everytime we meet at a party he asks me on updates:
"what's up, are you wishing you were home reading about the killer cellphone zombies?"
"they weren't zombies; they were republicans. anyway, I'm done with that one, but I'm reading a really good one about chess, and I left off at a rather engaging twist of the plot."
"so what, are you calling for a taxi soon?"
"not quite, but I'm almost getting there."

what I still don't know is if he's figured out that I really really mean it.


top 3 lines of what a way to waste a saturday night
1. folsom prison blues -- johnny cash (I hung my head and cried)
2. only -- nin (less concerned about fitting into the world; your world, that is)

3. rock n roll suicide -- bowie at the beeb (you're too old to lose it, too young to choose it)

me wanna go home

pheeew. I see my long days are back.

it was so pleasant going back to the shop today, and I wasn't in the least bothered that the Boss wouldn't let me out of his sight, not even to go to the loo or have a cup of tea; I spent the morning trotting between the two stores, getting all the papers ready for accounting, getting praised for the cleanliness of my record-keeping, and stupidly revolving upon my own axis. it's nice, isn't it, when folks notice that you've been gone and they're happy when you come back.

and that, my friends, was my sunny side of this day.

to not sound like a martyr for a change, I'll admit that the wellbeing held --sorta-- for a couple of hours after work, but they were spent planning class with rochester. we both solemnly agree --and never cease to repeat, to everyone's amazement-- that it's one of the lamest ways one can spend the time of day. specially with the ficco (festival internacional de cine contemporáneo) starting this week. I would encourage people more warmly to visit the website, but it's being retarded as is customary in mexican pages. hmph.

(si alguien conoce un link válido por favor móchense).

anyway, after some bitching and a fair amount of working, we grudgingly filed for class. as usual, the watch stopped ticking as soon as I crossed the door. the trap was closed; here I am for three hours. I'm not very sure what happened in all that time; I wrote the lyrics of a few of the longest songs I know by heart, we had a very informative reading about the history of chocolate; terms such as "amicable", "dire", "sown", etc had to be extensively defined, and sometimes acted out; then we sat back and contemplated profoundly upon our contemplation.

our class is scheduled for wednesday, and it's supposed to be the second to last, which is very much yay. the bad news is that the wicked instructor scheduled the exam I missed last monday --on account on being secluded in a gravity zero capsule under the risk of having my head cave in-- for right after the blessed class. which probably means that everything that didn't cave in last monday, will rightly leak out the day after tomorrow.

I know, I could have spared the visual too.

spring is in the air. my darling kitty is no exception and is now a slave to her hormones. yesterday night she spent nearly an hour cooing and singing to her sweetheart in the house next door, but he never came out. monkey is squeamish, he'd never set a paw outdoors until he moved to his current home, and consequently he is a bit wild; he is ok with her stealing his food, but not with the snuggling. not yet.

why haven't I had her fixed? interesting question. the answer is $$$. I'm taking her tomorrow to the vet so they give her The Pill --bitter, bitter irony. I'll just have to hope I'm not too late. I'm really not looking forward to taking care of a pregnant kitty who's still scared to death of mila, the Terrible Hound of Aguaskerville.

speaking of, marianne has started her own blog and she'll need peer pressure to keep up with it. there's the link then.

thus another weekday goes by... where has february gone?

top 3 of oh god it's so late
1. uptown girl -- billy joel
2.whoever you are -- geggy tah -- sp. dedicated to the guy who used me as a human shield to shove people left and right and get us off the damn bus
3. sultans of swing -- the dire straits

parece que hoy no pienso dormir

otra vez, como alicia en el país de las putas maravillas.

e insisto: no me quejo porque tenga una disposición agria, sino todo lo contrario. a saber: que nadie me joda por estar siempre en las nubes, si aquí nada tiene sentido tampoco.

si mi vida fuera lógica, podría organizar todo bien. los pagos, los planes, las inversiones.

y, sin embargo.

quería organizar mis plantas; mis semillas me miran con reproche, y no puedo menos que apenarme porque no tengo mucha disculpa; excepto que quiero comprar más que unas pocas pastillas de turba, y he estado esperando como idiota a que llegue mi pago.

no he podido operar a los gatos, tampoco. sé que es una vergüenza que no me haya ocupado de mi lily, pero diablos, ¿qué parte de todo el mundo me paga DEMASIADO TARDE para que me sea de algún provecho no ha quedado suficientemente CLARO? el gran problema es que ahora sando también se está convirtiendo en un problema.

y ay, fatua de mí, todavía contemplaba la noción de que, si me administraba bien, podría comprar cortinas para mi cuarto --porque a fuer de ser sincera, ya estoy un poco harta de dar el ah del barco todos los días a mi flamante vecino valenciano; unos jeans que no estuvieran rotos por el culo --me los rasgué el otro día en el trabajo; ese maldito fax me odia y me mordió, lo juro. es como una máquina planchadora de la que alguna vez escuché hablar.

entre las nieblas de esta larga noche, ya me di cuenta que ya se acabó el breve placer; aunque llegue mañana el dinero en fila de conga por la puerta, ya debo demasiado para que me resulte de algún alivio.

y este oído que no se destapa.


otra cosa a probar: he decidido que mi destino en la vida es leer. leo muy bien, muy rápido, y muy bien leído. así que ¿me quieren? cómprenme un libro.


y ahora...
1. just -- radiohead. it's not valentine's anymore. it's cause of celebration.
2. jessica -- allman brothers band. only because it's one of my favorite tunes of all times.
3. beetlejuice theme -- danny elfman. I bet you didn't know that at the very beginning there's a very distorted sampling of "daylight come and me wanna go ho-"
4. just too good to be true -- frankie valli. gay, I know.
5. white rabbit - jefferson airplane. just 'cause I'm already there. feed your head, man.

the compassionate look I just got from the woman at the store made me realize it. for about five days in a row now, I've taken a stroll at about this time to the oxxo around the corner and bought one big coke and not one but Two big chocolate bars. I guess the clerk must think I just went through a breakup of something.

maybe it's true that eating chocolate makes you feel like being in love. I've never been one of those who turned to chocolate, but then again, maybe it's a wise option. don't get me wrong, I loved being in love, but at this point maybe I've decided a chocolate bar is a lot less trouble and about as much comfort.

I oficially have a new cat. his name is sandokan. he's a minion of Satan.